


messy boys loud mind

by intherainstorm



Series: Autistic Jihoon [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Aspie!Jihoon, Autism, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Stimming, this is a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 13:54:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7535338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intherainstorm/pseuds/intherainstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He shoved his face into his hands and let out a shaky breath, trying to focus and push away his negative feelings. He was plucking at his shoes, twisting the loosened laces around his fingers. His free hand was shoved into his mouth, his teeth gnawing at the already bit-down nails.</p>
            </blockquote>





	messy boys loud mind

Oh fucking hell.

It was practice for the boys in Seventeen. This week they were learning a new choreography, lead by Soonyoung and the rest of the performance team that had constructed the dance in their unit time. This meant a lot of confusion, bumping into eachother, and being adjusted by the performance team members. Which meant people touching.

Jihoon didn’t like touching. At all. All of his senses exploded whenever someone tried to hug him, push him or move him around. It was his body, and no one else had any business touching it. 

Some days were good. Those days he could play around with the other boys, braid Jeonghan’s hair. 

Maybe he would sit down and lean on Joshua while the older strummed his guitar. 

Or perhaps he’d sit inbetween Seungkwan’s legs while the younger sang a quiet song, trying out different keys and listening to Jihoon’s opinion.

But then there were the bad days.

The bad days were really, really bad. And they came more often with the stress. All of the stress clouding the room made him overstimulated, his mind overloading with thoughts. He couldn’t process stuff on those days. 

But, as per fucking usual, he couldn’t do shit about it. He was the vocal team leader and he had to set a good example. And it wasn’t like he could go into his managers office and be like,  
“Hey man, I feel like my head is gonna implode because of people touching me, and all the noise is making me wanna scratch my ears out! So if I could go back to the dorm and smash an entire bed into a million pieces and scream my lungs out that would be lovely, thank you.”

No. That was one thing he couldn’t do. God damn it. 

Suddenly Soonyoung was clapping his hands and shouting about a ten minute break, while scribbling in his choreography notepad wildly. At this, Jihoon walked over to the wall to sink down onto the ground, as he leant against the wall. 

He shoved his face into his hands and let out a shaky breath, trying to focus and push away his negative feelings. He was plucking at his shoes, twisting the loosened laces around his fingers. His free hand was shoved into his mouth, his teeth gnawing at the already bit-down nails. Suddenly he felt a soft tap on his shoulder. He peeked up and it was - 

Junhui.

Holding out a pair of earplugs and a rubber hairtie. 

“You were chewing at your hand again… I thought this would help, instead. Oh, and earplugs… I noticed you wincing. Yeah. Okay.” The other male spoke softly over the ruccus in the room, placing the items on the ground beside Jihoon. A smile was sent his way before the taller male slipped away to his unit, who was gibbering about the choreography on the opposite side of the room.

Jihoon reached a bony hand out to grab the items, putting the earplugs in and immediatly letting a sigh of relief escape his lips as he felt the quiet overcome him. He shut his eyes once again and twirled the hairtight in between his hands. 

The rubber was held up against his mouth, and he bit down on it. This was a great distraction, and even though it wasn’t quite enough, he was thankful towards the older boy who’d brought the things to him.

Drifting off into his own mind he started to think, about how he was. He’d always been like this, if not worse when he was younger. As a child, he was not very good with people. Well it’s not like he was good now but he was pretty much awful at it when he was really young. 

Jihoon had cried whenever his parents’ friends tried to hug him or pat his head, and shied away every time that someone he wasn’t completely comfortable tried to talk to him. He always focused on his music, playing the piano and singing to himself, creating his own safe space.

He was with touching from certain people, people that mattered. People he cared about. But only on his terms, when he felt like he needed or craved it. His parents weren’t the ones to disrespect their son’s wishes, so they listened and tried their best not to make him uncomfortable. But God, these boys barely knew the concept of boundaries when he needed it

These days, it was better. A lot better. It would be even better, if it wasn’t for the stress of promotions and their new album approaching at a terrifying rate. The stress got to him, even though he’d never admit it, and it really sucked that he had no control over it. He felt every emotion about a hundred times worse than it actually was. And it was so scary.

He’d never learned to control himself. He felt like he was imploding every time something went wrong. It could be the simple fact that he couldn’t get that one part in the song to sound absolutely perfect, and it’d drive him to tears and anger and chairs would end up getting kicked to the ground, papers being torn.

It wasn’t ideal.

Especially when you lived with teenage boys who had no concept of personal boundaries.

But they understood. Most of the time. Or sometimes.

It was okay though, he got it. He was kind of strange, and it wasn’t odd that they didn’t understand either. He barely understood himself.

But now he had to exist in the moment, focus on the now. Right. What was going on?

He glanced up from his hiding place, looking around the room. The members were still scattered. Jihoon was still a mess in his mind. He needed comfort. He needed to be held. This wasn’t working out, oh god. Where was Seungcheol? He really needed him, right now.

He pushed himself off the ground and staggered to the leader, pressing himself against his back, whining into the muscular man’s shirt. His hands, that now had abandoned the hair tie on the floor, were tangled in the elders thin t-shirt. 

Jihoon yanked on the fabric, hoping the older would understand. Even though he had earplugs in, he could hear the loud chatter from the members through them and he wanted to get out of here as soon as possible

And Seungcheol did understand. He always did. Thank god for his leader. The male wrapped an arm around Jihoon’s shoulders, excused himself from the group, and walked him out, leading him into the younger’s studio. During this, Jihoon was letting soft sounds escape, his breath turning hitched and uneven as he tried to calm himself down. 

The elder led him inside, and shut the door quietly behind him. As he led the two of them towards the small couch in the room, Jihoon dug out the earplugs out. They weren’t doing much for him now, if anything. He needed to stim, to do something with his hands, now. His instincts told him to create a song about pain and lonliness and horrible things, but the look Seungcheol gave him told him that no, that wasn’t what was going to happen.

The leader sat down on the couch, and Jihoon crawled in his lap, pressing himself against his broad chest. Seungcheol literally lent him a hand, and let the younger play with his fingers and pick on his skin, so that he wouldn’t hurt himself. He didn’t want that. He wanted him to feel safe.

During all of this, they hadn’t exhanged a single word. They didn’t need to. Seungcheol understood, and Jihoon knew he did. 

Jihoon’s legs were shaking, his feet patting against the couch cushions. But he was calming down, the press of Seungcheol’s chest against his side, the feel of his tanned hand in his two pale ones, and the other softly caressing the small of his back, slowly brought him back to reality. The feeling of being overwhelmed was receeding, and though it was there still, it was becoming more subdued.

“Thank you Seungcheol-hyung.” He muttered, his head hunched over to hide his face behind his bangs.

He got a bright, iconic smile in return.

“It’s nothing, Jihoon. I care, you know?”

“Yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> im a mess this is a mess EVERYTHING IS A MESS
> 
> im trying to finish up some stuff okay i really am trying 
> 
> verkwan is coming up at least, as well as some kind of hoshifanfic  
> and im planning for a CHAPTERED FIC woooh exciting please stay with me


End file.
